Another Tuesday
by AAluminium
Summary: Corrie is waiting for Diogenes's message, she is extremely possessed with their appointments. And he texted her... P.S. Written for Third Phoenix ... I'm so sorry for my mistakes, English isn't my native language


It was the first time Corrie saw Pendergast was so exasperated. He never lost his temper, he always was extremely polite and utmost courteous, and he never showed his own displeasure. There were exceptions when Corrie talked with awfully strong words – but in that case he was only frowned and gave a rebuke to her. Now he was almost roused to fury, not losing his elegancy.

- I'm doing the utmost, trying to protect you, saving your life, but you, Miss Swanson… Turns out, you aren't hiding from Diogenes; you are spending your time exceedingly fine. Corrie, what methods should I recourse to? What words should I say you to understand this is not just a game?

Corrie, standing quiet like a delinquent puppy, was still sitting in the chair, inclined her head with purple hair. She threw her eyes to the ground ashamedly and folded her hands up lap, personifying the embodiment of honor and virtue. Well, she had fun a little; she isn't going to be locked up her whole life! Nevertheless, her common sense prompted to her: 'a little' was not quite in place, but she drove away these thoughts from herself, looking forward to next appointment.

- Corrie, - said Pendergast, calmed down, stood before her. – Just comprehend, your life hangs in the balance. Please, choose your friends more cautiously, and do not behave so reckless to yourself. Even if it sounds strange from me, I'm worried about you. – indeed, his voice sounded discomposedly a bit.

She was very amused by his tendance. For some reason she imagined he's so cold and imperturbable, but it emerged that he is not as he tries to look. He is cold, yes. But not to her.

Corrie fetched a sigh – Pendergast could construe it as regret or as agreement with his words.

- Aloysius, - the girl said smoothly after few moments, raised her serene eyes. She decided to call him by his first name if he allowed keeping names above titles. After all there is something more which combines them except the case in musty one-horse town in Kansas. I.. Me… It seems to me, you don't want to give him a chance. Diogenes is admirable. He's gallant, tender… caressing… - she restrained herself from memories last mad night. A pale-red blush suffused her cheeks. – You judge… with a jaundiced eye.

- With a jaundiced eye? Psychopathic assassin? - Pendergast snicked, crossing his arms. – My brother has already killed sufficient people, you cannot doubt in his insanity. You're charmed, Corrie. Despite his… individualities… he can be engaging. It isn't hard to him… to seduce this young and inexperienced lady as you are. – he recall Constance who fell for his brother's unrestrainable charm.

Even that situation Pendergast was who he is: the man was still diplomatic, being meticulous in the choice of words.

- I won't deny, I'm charmed, - answered Corrie defiantly, straightened up. – But how you can… what can you… Maybe…

She didn't know what she wanted to say. She had no desire to confess that she is a toy in hands of insidious and disingenuous Diogenes; she isn't important to him. If he gets tired of her, he murders her, in the worst case scenario. At best, he'll leave her with these memories, which elicit sweet yearning in her underbelly now, and then they will inflict overpowering pain in her heart.

- Not 'maybe'. – Pendergast understood what she meant. He shook his head in disaffection. – I must take a hand and require you to stop all relationships with Diogenes. Right away.

The girl bounced out of a chair like a scalded cat. She looked at him and, reached a decision, approach him as closely as she could.

- Just believe me, everything will be alright. You may not worry about my reputation. – Corrie murmured into his ear, unknowingly, where she learned to be like that. It seems, Diogenes has awoken another essence inside of her, and this essence was passionate, confident and proud. – Everything will be marvelous, I promise you.

Pendergast was staggered but he did not miss a beat. He moved away from her softly and murmured under breath:  
- It seems to me, the worst has already happened.

Corrie rolled her eyes up and she plopped into a chair with a wearied look. She's recently noted her dress is slightly torn – they never bother themselves with undoing buttons or zippers.

- Damn, Aloysius, it's just sex, why do you attach great importance to that? – the girl crossed her legs and looked at Pendergast expectantly, hoping receive a full answer.

- I was afraid of that, - sighed, he stepped to the door. – Perhaps, you cannot comprehend it now – I don't know, whose fault it is: my brother's or it is corrupting influence of modern American MSM, but the unity of souls is more significant than … that carnal relationships are clearly propagandized by today society. The fact is you don't appreciate moral virtues…

- Aloysius, it has extremely got old. – Corrie commented. – In 'the unity souls' times your welfare isn't necessary, people estimated other qualities. Now, everything is bought and sold.

- Perhaps. – he didn't argue. – Nevertheless, you're shunting the conversation on another topic. Believe, Corrie, man's thoughts, his understanding is more significant. Current print media, - he drawled it with such evident disapproval, that Corrie raised her eyebrow, from which was taken piercing out a couple of months ago, - are propagandizing… life in the fast lane, paying needless attention to the intimate side of man and woman's relationships.

She rolled her eyes again.

- You'd think there wasn't something like that earlier!

- It was. But not so clearly. – he shrugged his shoulders. – Corrie, please, - he said it more quiet, opening the door, - think of what I've told you. . And… be careful.

Pendergast stepped out, left the girl alone. Alright, if he wants her to be careful – she will be careful.

Until next Tuesday. Until next thrilled her blood appointment.

Corrie was waiting for customary message with allocation and time of the meeting. It seems, she lived with these meetings in her mind, and despite it, she comprehended these meaningless dates will come to a full stop sooner or later. When he called her – she ran to him like a devoted dog. She hated herself, she felt disgust to herself; to her implicit infatuation; the thought 'it's just amusement for both of us' started vanishing from her mind: for him, she has been remaining a push-over doll, just a whore; for her… he's meaning more. Much more.

Her mobile rang much later than usually – she started worrying that Tuesday was lived in vain.

'Go out, I have a car'.

Inside of her the flame is blazing up – what is he up to? Murderous intensity, route and incredible sensations? Again? No, he dislikes repeating. Maybe… are they going to take fancy to a rear seat of the car?..

Corrie stopped contriving possible variants of the continuation of the evening. She smiled to her reflection in a mirror – to the beautiful curvaceous girl dressed up a short skirt and a transparent blouse. Well, he was tormenting her with an expectation – now it's her turn.

The man opened the door, inclined his head slightly in greeting.

- Repetition? Lose your grip!

- You don't know the entire plan.

He turned a key and drove slowly around the city. Over and over again Corrie bit her lip, not venturing to ask some silly question. She gazed at him – the activity which was usually impossible, they hadn't enough time to examine each other. His skin is so pale. So long black eyelashes, despite his amber hair. And his lips… they're plump, passionate and sharply circumscribed. More than once he kissed her, and as a result of only one kiss was concupiscence inside. She shifted her gaze. Hands. His pointed fingers caressed her skin so many times. Recalling his touches, she licked her lips and faced away, becoming examine enormous bulk of a building outside the window. The landscape, this reality was escaping from her attention, giving way to memories, exciting the girl more.

- Skirts? Again? And the chains too? Did you decide to drive me crazy while I'm undoing with them? – he broke silence.

- And did you decide to drive me crazy while you're driving me to nowhere?

- I can't loose focus. We can have an accident. – Diogenes answered with affectation and earnest simultaneously, giving her a searching look. Apparently, this spectacle was liked by him: there was a devilsh spark in his eyes, which was well-known to Corrie.

- Last time it wasn't important to you… - she slightly touched his lap.

- Last time I pursued other aims.

She studiedly frowned, and gazed at raindrops again. Soon they drove out to the highway. The car, rumbling with the engine, drove along the black road with murderous intensity – Diogenes disliked slow ride, and he had sufficient patience for the nearest five kilometers. Suddenly, he stopped near a deserted and abandoned glade.

- Let's walk now.

Perplexedly, Corrie looked at him.

- Walk? Into … the forest? Is this your plan?

- O, everything is more intricately, - he snicked and extended his hand. –Don't you think I decided to holeup with nature? Your attire doesn't dispose to it.

She smirked satisfied and followed him.

Rain turned into rainfall. A dendritic lightning hemisected the velvety dark blue sky; the thunder was deafening. Corrie was soaked to the skin; her blouse outlines contours of her body, and it was noticed by Diogenes, who didn't look better.

The girl glanced at him occasionally, ignoring shiver. He is extremely handsome and aristocratic, he looks so eroticly, - much more arousing when he had come to the room in the hotel with a stupid name 'Moonlight'.

- Where are we going?

- Cannot you wait? – he snicked again, realizing, he impressed on Corrie. Suddenly, he pulled her to him, but he didn't kiss her. His pale hand slipped under her blouse and raised to her breasts. Corrie tried to reach out for his lips, but he only smirked.

- Are you doing it on purpose?! – Corrie was resented.

- Haven't you guessed yet?..

They have found a shabby hut. Well, it isn't a room in a decayed hotel, but it isn't a Victorian mansion. Ah, damn, there's no difference.

Diogenes gave her a questioning look. Corrie fiddled with chain.

- Here? – she looked at the door of the hut.

- Do you suggest staying there? Aren't you wet enough?

For a moment she watched at his smirk, which was solicitously illuminated by the lighting.

- Mr. Diogenes Pendergast, your jokes is becoming more vulgar and disgusting. – she sniffed and, opened the door, come into the shack.

Inside, this lodging looked like a good hotel, not uncared lair. There are no animal skins or guns in a corner. The comfortable room was designed in a hunter's style, but it was exposed to candles' light. Interesting.

Diogenes stepped to Corrie and pinned her to the wall underneath him.

- Today you look much more arousing. – he rubbed her thigh and slipped under her skirt. – And, I must confess, much more magnetic.

She took a deep breath. His closeness, his only one touch turn her on, emblazed the flame inside, driving out of her senses. Every time he moved closer, it gave her a thrill. This time wasn't an exception: his hands roamed over her body, releasing from the blouse; hardly, Corrie made herself breathe. She tried to escape his kisses, as if she entertained a hope to elongate this sweet torture.

She uttered a faint moan, when Diogenes rubbed with his fingertips from her neck and collarbones to the underbelly. She surrendered, she stuck into his plump and rube eyes with a frantic kiss, biting his lower lip. There was a taste of blood on her tongue; it turned them on more. He was deliberately slow; he kissed her neck, collarbones, lowering to her breasts, trying her patience. The man softly bit her sensitive skin, holding Corrie with one hand and easing her panties the other.

- Just… stop… deferring. – she murmured with another groan, ran fingers through his hair.

He almost can't control temper, but he's waiting her confession in her failure. Mentally, Corrie let it all hang out; she sent her entire common sense and Aloysius's warnings to hell; she forgot about his care. There was only one moment; there was only passionate desire to delight in each other completely. And this desire overfilled both of them, it was stronger than their senses.

Immediately, he penetrated in Corrie, pinned underneath him. His movements were gruffish a bit, but rhythmical. Corrie threw back head and slightly opened her lips in a fervent moan. He squeezed her thighs so heavily, that some bruises emerged on the girl's pale skin; he bit her lips until blood appeared; he grasped her fragile wrist – there was a thin bluish stripe. Her groans were becoming louder and louder; Corrie stuck into his back with her nails, leaving tiny wounds. They're losing contact with reality in that ecstasy, forgetting about time; they're breathing loud and deep, their moans were running into one another… Finally, Diogenes set her free, kissing her in the neck in conclusion – and he left a hickey like a reminder about that night.

- It's for your attempt to escape, - trying to control his breath, he said and insidiously smiled to her.

She lowered over the wall.

- You know, I like the current idea, except all my bruises.

He leaned over her.

- Никогда бы не подумал, что ты любишь мягкое и трепетное обращение.

- Well, I would never have thought it…

- What?

- I never know you like smooth and reverent treatment.

- Can you be so smooth with me?..

Instead answering, he kissed her gently, lowering to the neck, collarbones and breasts. Then, he rubbed the inner side of the thigh with back of hand. Corrie shivered: she hasn't restored the balance after previous orgasm; her breasts unevenly heaved in time with her breath.

He touched her lips with his; and he pierced her again, more gently, as if he feared to hurt, like an inexperienced lover.

- It isn't… so… funny, - she tries to smirk but only long-drawn-out moans and outcries were breaking out of her throat. Mocking, Diogenes suggested her 'to be in an ascendant position'. She shook her head, putting out to him completely; every piece of her body was burnt by unbelievable flame of passion and lust. The man picked up his pace, stopping hold himself back; his hands tightened up grip her waist. Again, they have sunk in the incredible ocean of passion, coming to the surface rarely to get a sniff of fresh air.

Another jerks; and Diogenes, growling with pleasure, fell next to Corrie and pulled her to himself. She gave a last shriek and spread over the floor, exhausted and happy. Now she seemed that strange man needs her not as a cheap toy or a faithful doll. She had no idea what he has something up his sleeve – and she didn't want to know it. Corrie hugged him and, gave him a kiss, slept on his chest, feeling protected, absolutely forgot Aloysius's words about his brother…


End file.
